


The bigger, the better (or not)

by mybluebucketofsnow



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Baz is obsessed with it, Blackmail, Cock Worship, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Gay Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Inappropriate Humor, Licking, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Sexual Tension, Simon Snow has small cock, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Loves Simon Snow, Watford Eighth Year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:07:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23752087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybluebucketofsnow/pseuds/mybluebucketofsnow
Summary: Baz is obsessed with Snow's small cock.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 18
Kudos: 179





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This is utterly ridiculous. I never thought I will go as far as that, but I had amazing sensei @Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire. Thank you for keeping me inspired with all your lovely smut fics.

Baz

“The bigger, the better,” I say to Niall and lick my spoon seductively. I make sure to say it loud enough for Snow to hear me from the other end of the table. I know he does, his eyes linger over my face and he blushes intensively immediately looking down.

Of course, we talk about the screen size of a telly that I am planning to put in my bedroom at home, but Snow doesn’t have to know the context. I’m satisfied just to see his blush still crawling down his neck under the collar of his white shirt.

“Stop staring his way, you are too bloody obvious,” Niall hisses at me, but I don’t care. This is our last year at Watford and I promised myself to take this thing between me and Snow as close to the edge as it can get. Even if this is the edge of the endless abyss and I will fall down there alone, I would rather prefer to have that than nothing at all.

“You know me,” I shrug and add louder again, “I do love things being proper and _big_.” Strictly speaking, that might not _always_ be true, but I have a reputation to maintain, especially in front of Snow.

His face goes through a few shades of purple before he moves his chair away and jumps up. I silently congratulate myself. Apparently, I am really good at finding the limit of what Snow can handle.

“What I know is that you are an idiot,” Niall rolls his eyes. We both watch the Chosen One retreat. “You took it too far this time.”

I stand up too. “Do you think he went to the washroom?” I ask innocently, but Niall just shakes his head.

“Don’t follow him there,” he says, looking annoyed and tired, “I repeat, do _not_ follow Snow to the washroom.” But it’s too late. I’ve made up my mind already. After all, it might be a perfect chance to finally find out what I wanted to know all along. 

I ran after Snow just in time see him slipping into the washroom at the far end of the corridor. This is a moment of truth. But as I stand there near the door I am not sure if I am mentally ready. Who knows what I would see on the other side.

Then I remind myself that this is our last year and this might as well be my last chance to know the truth. I take a deep breath, abruptly open the door and enter.

Simon

Any moment someone might walk into the washroom, while I stand here exposed. Usually, I am much more careful than that. I never use public washrooms. But this time at dinner Baz set me off and I got too confused to think properly.

I always knew Baz loves big things. But I couldn’t stand him bragging about it anymore. It was all too much.

I unzip my trousers and look down. Of course, it’s the same as I remember it to be. I lean my forehead on the wall in desperation.

That is the moment someone walks in and I turn around in a panic, completely forgetting that I am still exposed. I experience yet another wave of shock when my mind catches up with the fact that it’s Baz. This is like my worst nightmare coming alive.

He stares down at me for a few long moments, and it’s already too late to cover myself up. His eyes go wide with surprise. I feel horror twitching on my insides. He will tell everyone. He will laugh me off. ‘Not everything about the Chosen One is big’, that’s what he‘ll say. But in my mind, this is not even the worst part.

The worst part is that now _he_ knows. He said that he likes things to be proper and big and now he knows that I am not that. It’s ridiculous, but somehow what Baz thinks matters to me _much more_ than it should. 

The silence stretches until the bastard finally looks up and arches his eyebrow. That means he pulled himself together enough to say something witty. (Or cruel.)

Surprisingly he just clears his throat and turns around, taking a step towards the sink. “Relax, I’m just here to wash my hands,” he throws over his shoulder, while the water runs down. “Not a _big_ deal.” _And here it is._ There is a clear mockery in his voice and I find myself clenching my fists tighter. 

This is Baz I know. He is ruthless and he will never let it go. I shouldn’t have flattered myself thinking that he might.

Baz washes his hands in silence, but I know he just takes his time while plotting. He might blackmail me now into spying for the Old Families, he might blackmail me into anything. Even though it’s too late to save my dignity, I still zip myself up and take a step forward. I stop near the sink next to him, giving him a side glance.

Baz slowly closes the tap and the silence between us is almost unbearable. “Tell me what you want,” I spit through clenched teeth. At the same time, I doubt I have anything important enough to trade in order for him to keep his mouth shut.

He looks at me strangely. “You always expect the worst of me, don’t you?” I don’t answer him and he adds after a pause, “Wait for me in our room after classes.”

The rest of the day is pure torture. As we go through classes Baz behaves as he always does — as if he doesn’t know my biggest secret that he can use against me in every imaginable way.

Finally, when it’s time to go to our room, I feel feverish and anxious. I’m not sure I am strong enough to fight through his evil plans. Not this time.

When I enter our room, I find Baz sitting on his bed, face hidden in his hands. He looks up only as he hears me enter.

There are different emotions on his face and for a moment I fool myself that wickedness is not among them, but then I remind myself who I am dealing with. This is Baz we’re talking about, surely he plotted everything out thoroughly.

“Snow,” He nods, his eyes sliding from my chest lower and lower. “Happy to see you zipped up.”

His voice is steady as usual, but he looks at me a bit weird. His eyes are almost soft, but not exactly. Eventually, I understand what it is, it’s not softness — it’s a pity. 

“You followed me to the washroom,” I remind him sharply. 

Baz drums his fingers on the cover of his bed.

“What a perfect observation, Snow, except for a fact that not everything in this world revolts around the Chosen One,” he starts, but I interrupt him with a growl.

“Don’t— Don’t pretend that you haven’t noticed!”

Baz arches his eyebrow. “I’ve noticed everything perfectly fine. I am not blind.”

“So,” I say, “What do you want?”

He frowns. “You mean—”

“I mean in exchange for keeping your mouth shut.”

To my surprise, Baz turns away. A few moments pass and when he glares back at me his eyes are sharp and cold, “The question is not what I want, but what are you willing to give me?”

“I can give you my bag of leprechaun’s gold,” I say. This is the most valuable thing I own, but Baz just waves me away with his hand.

“I don’t need your money, Snow,” he says. “But I might need something else.”

“What else?”

“Pull your pants down,” he says, his voice almost bored. “I want to see it one more time.”

“Are you bloody mad?” I take a step back.

“What?” He says, “I want to see what we are trading off here.”

I straighten my shoulders. “Never.”

Baz rubs his chin, “I wonder whom I should tell first, Niall or Dev?”

I look at him with surprise. “You haven’t told them yet?”

“I haven’t, Snow. And you have a chance to keep it that way. Take your pants off and let me see it again.”

This is blackmail. This is exactly what I thought he would do. I know this is the worst kind of idea. You can never follow up on blackmailing — it’ll only get worse with time.

But there is something else. There is excitement growing inside of me, as I think about the fact that Baz wants to see me naked again. I think I want him to see me like that. What if he wasn’t repulsed by the thing that he saw? What if blackmail is just an excuse?

“I will do it,” I say. “On one condition.”

Baz looks at me with a clear satisfaction on his face. “What is it, Snow?” He asks, his voice is almost purring. (So low and sweet, I can’t deny, it does things to me.)

“You are not allowed to comment.”

Baz nods, his eyes never leaving mine. “And you are not allowed to ask for more,” I add.

Baz makes a dismissive gesture with his hand impatiently. “Nonsense. You can’t ask for something that I would never be able to follow up anyway.”

I sigh. This might be the biggest mistake I ever made in my life. And yet the thought of getting naked in front of him only because he wants to see me that way is too overpowering.

Baz

Snow reaches for the buckle of his belt and I swallow. I didn’t expect he would actually do it. If blackmail is all it takes to make him take his pants off, I would have blackmailed him a long time ago.

 **_“There's Nothing to See Here.”_ ** I cast just in case.

Even though we live on the top of the bloody tower, I know there are still _tricks_ that some freaks might use to know what Snow is doing. And let’s make it clear, I am the only one who is allowed to see what Snow is about to show me. I am the only one who is allowed to _know_.

It seems it takes almost forever for him to unzip and take his trousers off. It is a rare treat to see him in his pants. All these years Snow was hiding from me behind the layers of clothes. It was driving me nuts.

Not that I’m sane now. My heart beats like crazy as I almost see the outline of his cock behind his pants. (White pants. Who even wears white pants anymore?)

I think he has a hard-on. He has to have a hard-on. Because I definitely do. Finally, he puts two thumbs behind the elastic band of his underwear. He hesitates, his cheeks flushed.

“Crowley, Snow, I said to take your pants off,” I say, “Not to take them off as slow as possible.”

“Fuck off,” he says through his clenched teeth. “You said you wouldn’t comment.”

I cross my arms. “How is this commenting?”

I think this small bickering helps Snow to gather his wits. He quickly bends down, taking his pants off in one swift movement. I involuntarily shift my gaze away. (I know, I know, the moment everything I ever wanted is right in front of me I just have to behave like a bloody coward.)

It takes all of my will to make myself look back at him. Of course, Snow is gorgeous. My eyes slide over his muscular legs higher and higher until they finally stop on the part I am most interested in.

My worst suspicions turn out to be true.

It’s official — I am obsessed with Snow’s small cock.

I glare at it eagerly. It’s perfect. It’s everything I ever hoped it to be. And maybe it’s for the best that Snow forbade me to comment. Otherwise, I might have opened my stupid mouth and blubbered it all out.

Meanwhile, under my stare, Snow is getting harder and harder. Soon his little beast stands up in all its glory and I can’t take my eyes off him. (I’m talking about the cock but Snow himself is breathtakingly beautiful.) I swallow. I want to see more.

“Take your shirt off too,” I say, my voice already hoarse from arousal.

I am surprised at how easily he obeys. And how turned on it makes me feel. This time his movements are quick and he doesn’t hesitate. He is fast, even too fast. I would like to enjoy this picture of Snow taking his shirt off for longer because it might be as much as I’ll ever get to have.

I saw his blush before but I never had a chance to see how far it can reach. It spreads down his neck to his collarbone. And even his chest is flushed — pale pink. Now when I can finally see everything, his abdominal muscles, wide chest and aroused cock, nothing can make me take my eyes off him.

Meanwhile, under my gaze Snow takes a few involuntary steps forward. He moves like a lunatic as if he is doomed in the same way as I am. Suddenly he stops less than half a meter between us. 

I sit on the bed and he stands right in front of me. Finally, I can see his cock up close. But I am not satisfied. The problem worsens because now I need so much more. Of course, I can command him to come closer, but that won’t be right. (It doesn’t feel right.) It has to be his choice. His call for action.

“I never expected you to get so excited,” I say with a mockery in my voice. 

“Shut up, Baz,” he hisses at me.

I almost sigh with relief. This is good. Pocking and fighting him is so much easier. “Make me,” I dare him, tilting my chin up.

Something flickers behind his eyes, something hot and heavy. Something I never expected to see directed at _me_.

Of course, he doesn’t take his wand, he never does. Snow prefers rougher methods, he prefers to do things with his bare arms. He takes a step closer, his hand swiftly covering my mouth in a strong grip. His cock is as close to my face now as it can be.

He bends down and whispers in my ear, “Is this what you meant when you said to shut you up?”

It wasn’t and so I twitch under his grip, doing the only sane thing my mind tells me to. I part my lips slightly, stick out my tongue and lick his palm.

Snow snatches his hand away. As if I am something poisonous. As if the touch of my tongue is poisonous too. It almost breaks me. 

He looks at me with shock, but the next moment his hand covers my mouth _again_. And this time his grip is not so hard. Perhaps he didn’t mind my tongue after all. I stick it out and lick his hand again — properly.

Aleister Crowley. Snow is actually standing naked in front of me, letting me lick his palm.

At some point his thumb slips into my mouth, exploring my tongue and my inner cheeks. He closes his eyes, as I start eagerly sucking on it. After that my mouth slides over his palm again, down his wrist, until I finally feel the beating of his pulse under my lips. I linger on it.

“Put this hand on your cock,” I say quietly, but loud enough for Snow to hear.

He does as I tell him, already panting. His hand moves up and down, making his cock glister with my saliva.

Simon

I think I will come right now. I will come right now just from him watching me.

He still sits on his bed, his thin lips are wet and slightly pink and I can’t make myself look away from his mouth as I move my hand up and down my cock.

I know I should be careful, I should be cautious. After all, Baz is always plotting and he definitely has thought the whole thing through to lead me to my bitter end. But as I remember how the inside of his mouth felt when he was sucking on my thumb all I can do is keep on pushing in my hand. (The hand that he licked.)

I hate that he sees me like that — desperate for him, panting and aroused. I hate that I just blindly follow whatever he tells me to do.

But Merlin, it feels good. It feels good to stroke myself when he looks at me like that. Like he cares. Like he actually enjoys whatever it is that is happening between us.

His right hand reaches for his trousers and I can see that he starts to rub himself through the fabric. Bloody hell. Does it mean that he is aroused? Is it a part of his plan too?

He arches his eyebrow. “No commenting,” he reminds me. As if I ever can be as good as him at making witty remarks.

He unzips his trousers and his hand slides inside of his pants. He strokes himself, while I stare at him stunned. Our hands are moving almost in unison now and I automatically go faster when he does.

“Grip it harder, Snow,” he says in his husky voice and I almost explode just from the sound alone.

At this angle, I get a good glimpse of how his cock looks. It’s beautiful. It has perfect form and size and I can almost imagine touching it and feeling how silky and hot it will be against my hand.

If this was his original plan, to drive me nuts with the sight of his cock, then it’s fucking brilliant because I can’t think about anything else.

I tighten my grip and I imagine that it’s his cock I am stroking. I imagine squeezing him and twisting and each movement of my hand reflects in his eyes.

His mouth is wet and half-open and when the tip of his tongue licks over his upper lip I almost lose it. I don’t know how to ask for what I want him to do. I don’t know if he will ever agree. The possibility of Baz to take my cock in his mouth seems far-fetched and ridiculous. But I still remove my hand and take a step closer with my cock almost next to his face.

His hand in his pants stops moving as he gives me a cunning stare.

“You know, you need to ask nicely.”

I gulp for air, “Ask about what?”

“If you want me to suck your cock you need to ask nicely,” the bastard states with a smirk.

“Suck... My cock?” I repeat, my heart beating like crazy. (Is Baz being serious? Will he really do that? Or is it just a cruel joke of his?)

“You need to ask,” Baz says again. “Otherwise you will be convinced that I blackmailed you into that.”

“But you did blackmail me!”

“That’s beside the point,” Baz moves his hand dismissively. His eyes glitter. “So, Snow, what would it be?”

To my surprise, I still have an erection. Actually the more he talks the more aroused I get. I can’t believe his filthy mouth has that effect on me.

If I will ask him, will he really agree or will he just laugh me off? “Is it all a part of your plot?” I ask with the last clear remains of my brain.

He pushes himself back on his elbows, his eyes getting narrow. “I see,” he says. “I don’t know why I thought it would be any other way. Of course, the Chosen One will never accept things from someone like me.”

“From someone like you?” I frown. I try to keep my eyes on his face. I can’t stare at his crotch, not at a moment like this.

“Yes, Snow,” he nods. “Tell me what it is? Am I too posh for you, too smart, too gay?”

I shake my head. “None of those.”

“None?” He asks and this is the first time I’ve ever seen him confused.

“You are pretty much perfect,” I shrug. “Except for that evil part and blackmail.”

“I am sorry to inform you, Snow, but I come as a whole package,” he mutters. He looks somewhere over my head, his cheeks slightly pink. Like he can’t make himself meet my eyes just yet.

“I know,” I say. “Of course you are.” And then, “Look at me.”

His eyes pierce me like a hot silver. “Baz,” I say. “I want you to suck my cock. _Please._ ”

His thin lips stretch into a smirk, that makes my insides melt and my heart beat faster. “I thought you’d never ask.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you @Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire and @it_is_twelve for beta and all support. Sometimes one comment can inspire to write a new chapter!

Baz 

I look at Snow’s small cock with lust and desire. I never imagined he would have such a precious little thing. He didn’t even have to beg, really. I have been dreaming of putting his dick in my mouth since the first moment I saw it.

But now all of a sudden I am a little bit nervous. For all my fake bravado on display, in reality I have very few ideas on how to do it the _right_ way. I’ve read some porn, sure. But porn is one thing, meanwhile having the Chosen One without his pants standing right in front of me and begging to suck him off is something else entirely.

I can’t possibly disappoint him.

It’s simply not an option.

His cock is already so close — a beautiful little beast. I try to relax and go along with how it feels right. I bend slightly, enough to be able to stick out the tip of my tongue and lick along his length from bottom to the top.

He gasps for air. He should have been already on edge from our mutual masturbation. But now it looks like he is almost losing himself, his body trembling. Have I ever fantasized about how passionate Snow might be? Yes, all the time. Have I ever hoped I’d be lucky enough to be on the receiving end of his passion? Well, not bloody likely.

And yet, here I am, licking the top of his cock and enjoying his ragged breathing.

“Is this what you were pleading for?” I ask him with a smirk, because, well, I am evil and Snow agreed to take me as a whole package already anyway.

He whimpers helplessly and it should probably resemble agreement, but I am not satisfied in the slightest. My lips stop, barely teasing the very tip of his cock.

“More!” He breathes out and, “Bloody hell, I never thought—”

“You never thought what? That you would beg for your cock being sucked?”

My hands slowly run over his thighs, reaching for his arse and gripping it. I even let my pinkie run between his cheeks.

He swallows, “I never expected you to be interested.”

My hand stops.

“Well, Snow, of course, I am interested in sucking cocks, thank you very much,” It has been only his cock so far, but there is no harm in generalising. I need to maintain my image of a fake experience in front of Snow after all.

“Even mine?” He asks, his shoulders sagged.

What does it even mean? I frown in confusion. Isn’t Snow aware of what kind of treasure he possesses? I look straight into his eyes.

“I want you to fuck my mouth,” I state proudly. I take his hand in mine (the one that just a minute ago was sliding over his cock) and push it through my hair, finally placing it on the back of my head.

I carefully swallow his cock. My hands grip his arse gently pushing him forward, his cock sliding deeper and deeper finally reaching my throat.

I like how easy it is to swallow. It fits inside my mouth just right.

Snow makes a low growl and his grip on my head tightens. He makes a few rustic moves, his cock brushing the back of my throat and I make a pleading sound.

Finally. I have Snow’s precious cock where it is supposed to be. My hands squeeze at his buttocks while he makes a few more desperate pushes. I don’t think he could possibly last for much longer. Not with how turned on he is. He twitches suddenly, trying to pull out, but I grip him tighter, and he explodes helplessly right into my mouth. I swallow, enjoying the remaining pulsing of his cock inside of it.

His hand is still holding the back of my head. Soon it helplessly falls down and I let him pull out. He takes a step back.

“Why did you do it?” He asks, the tension back into his voice.

Ten seconds. That is how long it took for Snow to remember who he is and who I am. My own erection slowly dies under his searching tense stare. Apparently, all his rant before about how bloody perfect I am was just to get into my pants. Well, I mean, to make me get into _his_.

“Why do you think, Snow?” I draw out, while carefully examining my nails. “Because I am moron enough to get obsessed over your cock.”

Snow glares at me. “Can’t you just leave it alone, Baz?” he says, his face turning crimson and his voice angry. “Yes, I have a small cock, yes, you despise it, but there is no need to rub it in my face all the time.”

Is he serious? I tap my chin with my fingers. I am not even sure if Snow is aware of what word ‘ironic’ means.

“I think it was me who got it rubbed all over my face,” I say with a smirk.

  
  
  


Simon

One minute. That is how long it took Baz to go back to be evil. He is smirking again and somehow it still turns me on.

I don’t know why he did _it_. Why did he let me do _that_ to him? The whole thing was bloody perfect, _yes_ , but now the illusion is over and we are back to a part where he is Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch and I am just his lowly roommate. Well, his lowly roommate, who has a small cock.

I pull my pants and my trousers back on and zip myself up. My heart is still beating like crazy and the memory of him sucking my cock is vivid enough to make my head spin.

How on earth was he so bloody good at it? (Did he suck other cocks before? Probably yes. And bigger ones too, no doubt.) Maybe mine was just for variety. For fun. To add to his bloody list of different sizes and shapes. And the worst part, I probably went to the very bottom.

 _The bigger the better._ That is what he said this morning. And I know he meant it. Because this is how Baz is. He has to have the best. He deserves it. Not my petty cock that can nearly reach the end of his throat.

A swallow hard. This is when it hits me. I never kissed him. I bloody fucked his throat, but I never kissed him. And now I’ll never have a chance.

He follows me with his eyes up and down, his face unimpressed.

He wouldn’t tell anyone, right? Not after everything. But he _is_ a git after all. I feel my palms sweat. He knows my biggest secret and he blackmailed me and I let him.

“I made my part of the deal,” I say darkly. I see his eyebrow going up. Something similar to the bitter disappointment runs in his eyes.

“Care to explain yourself?” He asks coldly.

I look away, “I fucked you to keep your mouth shut. I hope… I hope you will follow your part.”

There is a silence on his end for a few long moments.

“First of all you didn’t fuck me, I fucked you.” He states finally, his voice very flat. Lifeless. I shot him a glance just in time to see his smirk transforming into a sneer, “And don’t worry. Your _small_ secret will be safe with me.”

I take a step back. This is a low blow. Even for him. But then he never cared to hold himself back when it was about humiliating me. “Fuck off, Baz.”

“With pleasure.” He stands up slowly, his back very straight. Somehow his clothes are already arranged perfectly. As nothing happened. And probably nothing has. At least nothing worth for him to remember.

Except that his mouth still looks red and my cock twitches slightly, the traitor that he is.

Baz slides past me to the bathroom. He deliberately leaves the door open and I can hear him making a show of gurgling his mouth.

I shut my eyes. Bastard.

A few moments later he leaves without looking my way. I fall down on my bed. I can’t believe how stupid I was. How naive. And I can’t believe that I didn’t manage to kiss him.

Baz

As I storm down the stairs I think that the worst part is not Snow hating me (because he always will after all), but the fact I have no bloody idea how to make him fuck me again. Apparently, I am obsessed. And hopeless. And I _have_ to see his cock again — over and over.

It doesn’t take long for me to find Dev and Niall. They are in the dining hall enjoying their afternoon tea.

They look at me startled as I approach their table because I must behave like a lunatic when I blurt out in one breath, “How do you make someone fuck you again?”

Niall doesn’t even blink an eye, while Dev shifts in his seat uncomfortably.

“Eeeh…” He says, “You buy them flowers, I guess.”

I give him a reproached stare. “Bloody nonsense,” I respond, “Next suggestion.”

My eyes move over to Niall. He shakes his head, “Baz, sit down,” he says. And then, “What do you mean _again_?”

I take a cup of tea and give him an impatient stare. I am not in a mood to explain how I just let Snow deep throat me and how I am dying to do that again. “It’s not relevant,” I say finally. Niall rolls his eyes.

“Ask him out,” he says. “On a date.”

I choke on my tea. “As a boyfriend?!” I gasp, scandalized. It’s not that I don’t want to. But having Snow dating me is definitely even less possible than him letting me suck his dick again.

Niall gives me a stare. “What, you want to fuck him but you don’t want to date him?”

For one glorious moment I imagine that. Simon Snow as my boyfriend. Going out with me. Holding my hand. Kissing me. Telling me how beautiful I am.

And then I laugh myself off. “Not possible,” I say.

“Why?”

I look away. I don’t want to reveal the whole painful story of my relationship with Snow, so I decide to state the obvious part, “For starters he bloody hates me. He thinks I am a git. A villain.”

Dev rubs his chin with a smirk, “Well… Aren’t you?”

I give him a side-eye, “That’s beside the point.”

Niall and Dev exchange a glance. “He was pretty much obsessed with you since the fifth grade,” Niall says after a pause.

Well, that sounds like a bloody lie. And then it hits me. They probably don’t even know who the hell I am talking about. I narrow my eyes, “He?”

Niall holds my stare. “Simon Snow,” he says, “The Chosen One. Your goofy roommate, who follows you around and looks at you as if he either wants to kill you or own you for the rest of his life.”

I snort. That’s ridiculous. 

“Continue,” I say.

“He likes you. That’s obvious.” Nial says and, Crowley, I want to believe him. But then no way the Chosen One, Simon bloody Snow would like to own me in any other manner apart from fucking my mouth. And even that he got bored pretty quick with.

I look at the remains of tea leaves in my cup. One might say that they form a shape similar to a heart if one cared enough to state such nonsense. I don’t. I push a cup away with a heavy sigh.

“I just don’t understand why it took him so long to admit his feelings?” Niall asks further with a frown, “Something must have been holding him back.”

“Just to be clear, none of his feelings was admitted,” I say icily.

Nothing can ever hold Simon Snow back. Except... And then it hits me. Shit. I look at Niall wide-eyed. Can it be that Snow was self-conscious to approach me because of his cock? Nonsense! It’s gorgeous and it’s beautiful, just like the rest of him. I swallow.

“But you did have sex, right?” Niall says with some hesitation. “He should have done something to have you let him?”

I think about Snow standing in front of me stroking himself. His cock in front of my face.

I bite my lower lip. “He might have done a few things,” I admit. Even though it’s definitely not the right moment to explain to Niall how the concept of blackmail works. Or why on earth have I done that.

“Have you told Snow that you like him?” Niall asks sharply.

I look away. Of course, I didn’t. How could I? Even worse, I made fun of him. Multiple times. I remember how pained Snow looked. How unsure.

 _Even mine?_ He asked me.

“I don’t like him,” I threw in a last attempt to be difficult.

Niall sighs. “Really? Then why are you sitting here trying to figure out how to make him fuck you again?”

“Because— ” I stumble, “Because...” For the first time I find myself running out of words. Of course, I like him, and it’s not only about fucking. It’s so much more than that. I want him to be with me, I want him to _like_ me back.

“No, I mean, _literally_ ,” Niall says, “Why are you sitting here instead of going back to your boyfriend and asking him on a date?”

“Nice one, bro!” Dev gives him a fist bump. 

I roll my eyes. They obviously know nothing. About how complicated my relationships with Snow are. How fragile. I can’t ask him out. That will break our balance forever. We are enemies, not sweethearts. I can only push him to the edge and enjoy the misery that we share together. 

  
  


Simon

After Baz leaves, I stare at the void in front of me for some time. I remind myself over and over why I had to push him away and why he cannot be trusted. But it’s so much harder now with the memories of what we’ve done burning their traces inside of me.

Maybe the whole thing was his evil plot, but for a few moments it felt like something real. For the first time I saw Baz in a different way. He was beautiful and raw and brave. And he trusted me. It was I who chose to push him away.

I close my eyes. This thought alone is enough to keep me sulking for the rest of the evening. I stay in my bed, staring into the ceiling not able to move past the sinking feeling that I did everything wrong.

When the door opens and Baz slides in, I sit up startled.

“Are you back?” I ask and I hate how hopeful my own voice sounds. Baz arches his perfect eyebrow. It’s not like I can fool myself to believe that he might be interested in me. I am still the same — imperfect in the most embarrassing way and far below any of his standards.

He sits down on his bed opposite me. The top button of his shirt is opened and I can see a bit of his collarbone. It’s so distracting, I can barely focus.

“I have a new deal for you,” he pulls his hair back, but one of the strands still falls down to his forehead. I want to reach my hand and brush it away, tuck it behind his ear and touch him.

“Yes?” I ask, my voice hoarse. I’m sure I sound like a damn fool that I am.

Baz takes a sharp breath in. “You can fuck me again.”

I gape at him. Is he saying what I think he’s saying? My throat goes dry. “Fuck… you… again?” I repeat stupidly.

Baz nods. “On one condition.”

My mind jumps to our last time together, my heart beating fast. “No commenting?” I ask.

I hope it will be as simple as that. I would have done so much more to make Baz mine again.

He shakes his head. His cheeks go to a lovely shade of pink. “Be my boyfriend,” he says without looking my way.

My mouth drops open, “Are you asking me on a date?”

“No,” He says sternly and glares at me, “I am blackmailing you.”

It is very hard to follow what he says, especially when he bites on his lower lip. But then it hits me.

“Oh my God! You _are_ asking me on a date!” I exclaim in shock. 

His lips go into a thin line. “Maybe,” he admits without looking my way. “So?”

I grin. Even if it’s one of his evil plots at this point I don’t bloody care. “I have one condition as well,” I say.

“What is it?” He frowns and I love how he almost pouts.

I try to make my voice sound even, “You have to kiss me.”

Baz takes a step back, “Are you bloody mad?!” He almost stumbles.

I shrug, “Take it or leave it. I am not agreeing to date someone without kissing him first.”

“Is this some kind of a bloody test?” He asks, crossing his arms, but his voice still sounds nervous.

And then it strikes me, “Is it your first time?”

His cheeks burn even more bright, “No,” he says, but even I can see that he is lying. 

“You sucked a cock but you never kissed someone before?”

“Fuck off, Snow.” He takes my tie and pulls me closer. Finally, he is so close that I can almost drown in his grey eyes.

“No comments,” he says, before kissing me.

Baz

I have no idea what I am doing, but I hope on some metaphysical level kissing shouldn’t be very different from sucking him off. I open my mouth and let Snow’s tongue slide in.

He tastes warm and sweet and he is such a good kisser that it almost kills me. I wonder if it was Wellbelove who trained him well? I shudder at this thought and accidentally bite him on his lower lip. 

Snow pulls off.

“Auch,” he says with a frown. For a moment there I am afraid that I spoiled everything, but to hell with that.

“Deal with it, Snow,” I snap at him, “You know what you were signing up for.”

Surprisingly his frown transforms into a grin. “I didn’t say that I mind,” he replies, his lips crashing into mine again.

Bloody hell. That’s hot. Two seconds more and I melt into him to the point of no return. Which scares the hell out of me. Kissing Snow is amazing. But it’s awful at the same time. It leaves me helpless and vulnerable. What if he’ll know that I like him? That would be terrible. I know pretty damn well what happens to people who fall for the Chosen One.

I lick into his mouth nevertheless. I must have done _something_ right, because he moans and then he pulls me closer, his hands groping my ass. His tongue invades my mouth the same way as his cock did.

I whimper. My hand slides from his tie to where his cock is supposed to be. Despite its size, I can still feel it through the layers of fabric. I can still cup it and rub it.

Next moment Snow jumps away from me startled, “Don’t,” he says and my heart falls down, “Just— Please don’t.”

Crowley. That was quick. I shouldn’t have kissed him. I shouldn’t have asked him out. Now he knows how desperate I am. How in love. Without my upper arm, Snow would simply destroy me.

“Well,” I say, “It was the shortest dating in the whole history of England.” I turn around, preparing to leave.

“Wait,” he catches my hand. And then “ _Baz_.”

“If you asked me to kiss you just to show how much better you are—” I start.

“I am not better,” Snow says grumpily. “I… You…” He takes a deep breath in. “You said this morning that you like things to be big. And I am— I am not that.”

“What?” And then it hits me. A hot wave of relief goes over me. “Idiot,” I say, “I was talking about my telly.”

“Your telly?” His eyes go wide.

I nod. And since we apparently talk feelings now I add, “I fancied sucking you off just fine,” I admit and then I remember Niall’s advice, “And I might like you. A little bit,” I add just in case. I hope I didn’t take it too far feelings-wise. I don’t want to be too bloody obvious. 

His eyes sparkle. “I like you too.” He clears his throat, “A lot.”

He does? And he told me? 

Bloody hell. He is so much braver than me. I look sideways, my heart beating fast, all those rough emotions going right through me. But there is still one thing that hurts from the last time. I look at him with a challenge. “You said you’d take me as a whole package and then the moment it was over you automatically assumed that I did it to humiliate you.”

He takes a step closer, his eyes searching, “But then— Why did you do it?”

I almost roll my eyes, “Obviously, because I like you. And when I saw your cock I wanted you to fuck me with it right away,” I put my hands around his waist and pull him closer, “In fact, I still want the same thing.”

He grins, “And you are blackmailing me into that by asking me to be your boyfriend?”

“Exactly, Snow,” I nod, then I add in the most sophisticated voice that I can muster, “That's because I am evil. And can’t be trusted. Just the way you like it.” I pull his hand to my mouth and kiss the back of his wrist.

He growls. “ _Simon_ ,” he says his voice hoarse.

“What?” I ask absently, I am too distracted by the infinite blue of his eyes.

“I want you to call me Simon,” he says, his cheeks burning red, “while it’s my turn to suck you off.”

His words strike right into my cock. I’m already so hard it’s almost embarrassing. Meanwhile, Simon leans in, his tongue invading my mouth again. Both of his hands grip my ass and I rock against him helplessly.

“And I do trust you,” he pushes me on the bed, on _his_ bed and I almost die on the spot. (He never let me even close to his bed before.)

Simon ends atop of me, holding himself up with one of his elbows, but still close enough to let me feel the weight of his body. He kisses me wildly, while I practically climb him trying to get my legs around his waist. I can feel the friction of our cocks even through the thick fabric.

“You said… something… about sucking me off… _Simon?_ ” I bite gently under his ear.

He growls low. And then my trousers and pants are pulled down. His mouth swallows my cock and I pretend that it’s all fine and I can hold on a bit longer. Till I can’t hold on at all and then I come gloriously after a few desperate thrusts, the remains of his name still ringing away on a tip of my tongue.

**Author's Note:**

> Dear readers, thank you for reading, each one of you is amazing.


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